


Slick City

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Best Friends, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Cowboy Hats, Drabble, Friendship/Love, Horseback Riding, I Honestly Don't Know What This Is?, Like the Most Minimalist Writing/Story cos Coldest Hits Cbfed, M/M, Massage, Unresolved Sexual Tension, butt massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5742592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could do that," said Dean, eyes on the tv.</p><p>"Mmmm," Castiel said, which made Dean turn to him.</p><p>"I could," he insisted.</p><p>Castiel didn't seem convinced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slick City

_“The three of us, New Mexico... driving cattle.”_  
  


"I could do that," Dean said, eyes intent on the tv.

 

"Mmmm." Castiel said, which made Dean turn to him.

 

"I could," he insisted.

 

Castiel didn’t seem convinced.

 

Shifting across their couch in their small run down apartment. Dean Winchester turned to his long time college now awkwardly-graduated-roommate, looked him right in the eye and said; “Cas. I could _do_ that.”

 

“I don’t think you understand the point of this movie,” said Castiel. He set his and went into the other room.

 

 _City Slickers_ continued on the tv as Dean got up and followed Cas into the kitchen.

 

“You don’t think I could hustle cattle?”

 

Cas seemed offended at the very notion. “Dean, it is not as simple as Hollywood makes it seem.”

 

“Oh I suppose you’d know all about it then?”

 

“Yes actually.” Castiel said, head now buried in the fridge. “My uncle owns a ranch.”

 

Dean stopped and stared, his hip bumped against the table and he hissed out a breath. “Your uncles a cowboy?”

 

“I suppose that can be considered the term.” Cas grabbed out two beers, bending, stretching up. He held the second one out to Dean.

  
A flash of hurt. Dean kept his arms crossed over his chest tight. He’d known Cas for well over six years, hell, they’d been living together for three and everything he knew about Cas’ family, his childhood he could count on two hands. Probably one, if it came to the important stuff.

 

“Why do I not know this about you?”

  
“You never asked,” said Cas simply. “And it’s hardly the sort of thing to come up.” He wiggled his fingers, prompting Dean to take the drink.

 

Dean took it with a huff, leaning heavily against the table. “Still,” he said, feeling uneasy.

 

His unease must have been something Cas sensed as he slid along the table, reaching out with his shoulder and his hip, pressing a long ling of heat down Dean’s side.

 

“There will be a drive coming up in the spring,” he offered the olive branch with a low, gravelly tone. “My uncle is always looking for extra hands.”

 

“You mean cowboys?” said Dean, smiling. He popped the lid of his drink and took a long swing, staring off into the middle ground, thoughts a-fly. “We’d get to be cowboys?”

 

“Yes Dean.’ Cas said, pink lips wrapped around the lip of his bottle. He looked over the glass with blue eyes, intent of Dean’s face, sliding down. “You’d get to be a cowboy.”

 

“Well… Giddy the fuck up.” Dean smirked and clinked their bottles together.

 

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

 

Dean couldn’t do this.

 

They were going to be on the road for a least a week, constantly riding; watching the cattle at all times.

 

It was hot in the daytime and fucking freezing at night, and the cows all stank no matter what. A long march of mooing, shuffling shit-machines. Hardly the romanticized view of riding out Dean had always maintained as a child.

 

Accompanying the professional; (and paid cowboys.)

 

Dean had to admit Cas look good in a cowboy get-up, which really consisted of slim fitting jeans, a blue shirt (that Dean couldn’t help noticing matched his eyes) and a cowboy hat.

 

A fucking cow boy hat.

 

They rode out at a horrendously hideous hour (Dean was glad at least both he and Cas were hostile with the early morning start). The paid/trained hands brought up the sides whilst Dean and Cas brought up the rear followed by the truck.

 

An hour into the ride Dean’s ass began to get a little numb. By three it was starting to hurt.

 

Dean kept his struggle to himself, not wanting to be a pain or a bother (and bigger than that, not wanting to admit that possibly he’d been mistaken.) and it was around the fifth hour, as he watched Cas bump up and down in front of him, moving in his saddle with every step of his horse, that his mind started to fizz off into a pain-bored mixed cloud.

 

God Cas looked at home on top of a horse, and probably with good reason. Since arriving Dean had learnt that Cas had practically grown up in a saddle, with his dead-beat dad and no mum, Cas’ grown up with his uncle and his cousins, herding sheep on the weekends and hustling cattle in the summer.

 

Castiel actually was a cowboy while Dean was a poor excuse of one.

 

“You don’t have to stay with me Cas.”

 

“I enjoy riding along side you.” Cas said, and no way-no how was Dean going to look hard into that. “and I feel more at ease.”

 

“Cos I’m useless,” said Dean self-deprecatingly.

 

Castiel shot him a mild, but none-the-less serious glare.

 

“You are hardly useless Dean, you’re just beginning.” He looked at Dean, eyes passing over him like a gently swelling tide. Dean shifted in his saddle and tried not to wince. He’d been shifting in his saddle for most of the afternoon, it was worse then trying to find the cool part of a pillow, every little bump or hiccup in his horses (Matilda’s) step he could feel zing right up his spine.

 

Dean wanted to point out that given that they’d travelled about twenty miles, he could hardly use the excuse of beginner anymore.

 

“Which is why you gave us the easiest part, yeah?”

 

“Yes I did,” said Cas, as behind him, a rider (a guy by the name of Benny or something) rode out after a straggler and expertly guided it back to the mod. “With good reason. How are you holding up Dean? Is your rear hurting?”

 

Rear. Only Castiel-fucking-Novak, could say rear and not sound like a sixty year old man and instead like a bit of a porn star, especially with that hat, those boots…

 

Not red like Dr. Sexy but brown, thick leather that climbed up his leg and shaped his thighs.

 

What? Cas had nice thighs, Dean was secure enough in their friendship (and his less than straight) sexuality to admit it.

 

“It hurts,” Dean admitted, a bit of a flush, highlighting his freckles. “everything else is pretty sore too.” He said, only to bite out a gasp as his butt hit the saddle uncomfortably again.

 

“I’m sorry Dean,” Cas said far too empathetically as if he was the cause for the ache in Dean’s…

 

Alright Dean was not going to go down that pathway, no way no sir.

 

“We’ll be taking camp soon, I’ll just confirm with the head, yah!” Cas yelled, and pressed his thighs into his horse’s sides, speeding around and past the entire mob, galloping up the side.

 

Dean had to admit, his chest gave a small flutter watching Cas leave, it was only the sound of the truck’s beep, the jolted him out of his daydream and had him bringing up the rear on his own with renewed fervor.

 

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

 

Thankfully after dinner everyone was too tired to do more more then set up the tents, the camp and go to sleep.

 

While Cas set out for the last count up of cattle, Dean collapsed onto his sleeping bag in their tent, on his stomach bare as the day he was fucking born. His ass was covered in angry red blisters and looked just about as bad as it honestly felt.

 

Dean felt as though he’d been torn a new one, and not, at all, in a vaguely pleasant way.

 

Cas entered Dean’s tent without saying a word about his best friend’s nakedness, they’d lived together so long now, nudity here and there was not at all uncommon.

 

That didn’t stop Dean from biting his tongue when Cas sat close beside him.

 

“It won’t be like this the whole time?” Cas said a little tenderly. “Your body will adjust to the sensation eventually.”

 

“You mean my ass will get all hard and callously? No thanks man.”

 

“It won’t,” Cas assured. “But… I have some ointment, if you’d rather.”

 

He left the statement off on a question. Dean wriggled into his sleeping bag, tossing up the pros and cons of such a situation. His cock was pressed into his air mattress, behaving for the moment, due to weariness and exhaustion.

 

“Thanks,” Dean said into his sleeping bag, trying not to sound too enthusiastic about it. And that was permission enough for Cas.

 

Cas left the tent headed for his own, and came back a what felt like both a few seconds and a thousand years later with a small bottle in hand. Smaller than lube, but with the same viscosity, it smelt vaguely minty. Dean smiled into his lower lip.

 

“There should be enough for the whole journey if I don’t apply it too liberally.”

 

“Can’t understand why we can’t just get them in the truck,” Dean grumbled. He slid his arms out from under his chin and placed them down along his side. He felt one thumb run down over his spine, and his fingers clenched on instinct.

 

If Cas noticed Dean’s nerves he didn’t say anything.

 

The first touch to Dean’s beaten ass had Dean tightening up.

 

“Ah,” he said, a thick breath bursting from his mouth. “Sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Said Cas and smoothed his hands much slower, barely touching, over the skin of Dean’s lower body. “Please, tell me if you’re uncomfortable with me doing this for you in any way-”

 

“Cas, it’s fine. I want you too and besides,” it took a moment for Dean to continue, his throat having grown suspiciously dry. “I-I can’t reach everything back there, we’ll be riding all week and tomorrow, I don’t wanna miss anything…”

 

It was a thin excuse and they both knew it.

  

Still, Dean forgot all about his anxiety with Cas’ gentle treatment. He tried not to think of anything, or say anything at all- just relax into Cas’ gentle touch, only hissing whenever Cas found a new sore spot.

 

Dean was glad for the sore spots; it was awfully hard to be aroused when every few passes of Cas’ hands has his nerves crying out. Dean’s skin felt hot when Cas’ dragged the oil up Dean’s thighs, spreading it with his hands. Cas was meticulous, mapping out muscles, finding ones Dean hadn’t even known needed attention to be set right. It was a few minutes spent in silence, Dean mainly keeping his sounds in once the actual pain of his ass began to ease.

 

He was getting hard but only faintly aware of it. It was almost an afterthought really, his half-mast erection, something that was odd in and of itself. Usually when Dean was hard he was hard with no in-between (especially with Cas.) but this was different, nice, he felt no pressure to roll over, expose himself and ask for some other sort of attention.

 

Which was probably for the best anyway, he had no idea how Cas’ would react to such a situation.

 

Now aware of his arousal Dean squirmed in discomfort, hating that he felt a low but steady pulsing between his legs. He gritted his teeth, gnawed at his own jaw as Cas circled his thumbs along Dean’s hip bones, kneading his lower back along his spin, down down to the crease of his ass.

 

Oh god yes.

 

Such treatment was given to Dean for several long minutes, which honestly could have been hours or seconds, time was arbitrary at that time.

 

Dean had lost himself to Castiel’s touches, completely vulnerable.

 

He didn’t feel when Cas moved to side over Dean’s legs, sitting up on his knees, only made away of it faintly after it had already happened. Cas leant over Dean to press into his cheeks, dragging the deep ache downward. He worked his hands in a rhythm, over and over, until Dean’s breathing mirrored his hands and created a strange cycle. Castiel found the soft spots, the tired battered spots of Dean and massaged them until slowly all tension and pain melted away. Dean sighed with every press and squeeze, as though one more demon was being exorcised from him.

 

Heaven. Absolute Heaven, Dean felt as though even with Cas’ weight a top of him he could fall asleep easily.

 

And he may just have, as far too soon, Cas’ hands slowed, his massaging became more strokes, gently soothing Dean’s oil slick skin.

 

“There,” Cas said gently, he smoothed his hands up up, up Dean’s ass over his spine to his shoulders and leant so low as to whisper in Dean’s ear, so low Dean could feel the breath of him, and almost felt Cas’ entire press against his naked back. “All better.”

 

Dean shivered, practically unconscious; he arched up into the heat.  
  
Cas chuckled and moved off of him, but not before pressing a faint touch to the back of Dean’s neck that could have been a kiss, could have been a brush of fingers. Yet Dean was so deep within himself now and so exhausted he barely felt a thing. It was like Cas dissolved instead of leaving, echoes of his touch still tingling all over Dean, lulling him to sleep.

 

“Ni’Cas,” He murmured, shifting down a top of his sleeping bag, belly down, backside and thigh still exposed and now glistening.

 

“Good night Dean.” Cas said once more, and then before anything else, Dean was fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPNColdesthits, hope ya'll enjoyed!
> 
>  [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)


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